


Can We Just Get Closer?

by Hookedonapirate



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: CS Secret Santa, Captain Swan - Freeform, Cssecretsanta2k18, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Mutual Pining, Road Trip, Smut, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-25 21:57:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17129459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hookedonapirate/pseuds/Hookedonapirate
Summary: Christmas at Ruth's is tradition, along with a long road trip and a persistent sister-in-law who likes to meddle in Emma's love life. So when her ridiculously attractive colleague, who's also a family friend and heading to the same place, offers to ride with her, she can't exactly refuse. And why not tell everyone they're dating while they're at it?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HollyeLeigh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollyeLeigh/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is written for hollyeleigh for cssercet2k18 on Tumblr. You mentioned you like bedsharing and stranded tropes with angst and mutual pining, so here’s a story with all of those things and a bit of fake!dating thrown in the mix. It turned out much longer than I had imagined, so I divided it into 3 parts. The next 2 will be posted on Christmas and the day after. I hope you enjoy the story! Merry Christmas, Hollye!
> 
> A couple of shout outs go to onceuponaprincessworld for helping me with this and residentofstorybrooke for giving it a quick look over!
> 
> Happy holidays to all of you!

Emma's phone buzzes incessantly with the familiar chime against the oak surface of her desk, the screen lighting up to indicate another message has been received. As she nurses a cup of hot cocoa with cinnamon, she doesn't even need to move her eyes from the paper she's currently grading, to read the actual content of the message or the multiple previous ones.

 

She already knows what the messages are about and who they’re from.

 

Christmas at Ruth's has been a topic of conversation between her family and close friends for several weeks now. Emma has a string of group messages on her Facebook messenger to prove it. The gathering is an annual tradition, and everyone looks forward to it all year long.

 

Everyone except for Emma. At least, not this year.

 

It's not that she doesn't want to see everyone or catch up with them, but since it’s the first Christmas without Neal, she will constantly be reminded of how completely and hopelessly single she is. Plus, ever since Mary Margaret married into the family, she’s always taken over the reins. She has her mother-in-law completely wrapped around her little finger. And don't get Emma wrong, she loves the petite brunette who’d stolen her brother's heart in high school, she really does. But every year before she’d met Neal, she was always harped on for not bringing anyone with her for Christmas. Now that she’s not with him anymore, everyone will just feel sorry for her and treat her like she’s a porcelain doll while trying to not gossip about what had transpired between her and Neal. However, Mary Margaret has never been known to keep something to herself, so Emma doesn’t really see Christmas as being completely void of Neal gossip.

 

Emma’s eyes eventually move to the phone laying on her desk, and she purses her lips, staring in serious contemplation. The moments hang heavy before she sets her mug down and finally picks up her phone.

 

There are several messages that follow Mary Margaret's inquiry about what day and time everyone will be arriving so she can start planning meals, and the last two are for Emma since she hasn't responded in the last couple of days.

 

**_When will you be here, sis?—David_ **

 

**_Are you bringing anyone, Emma?—MM_ **

 

She sighs deeply at her desk, debating how she should reply. Maybe she should just tell them she can’t go. On the other hand, if she doesn’t go, she’ll never hear the end of it. Either way, she’ll be pestered by them, but if she does go, she’ll have to face them in person. If she doesn’t go, she can just ignore a million messages and phone calls she’ll receive.

 

Decisions, decisions.

 

A knock on the door tows Emma from her thoughts, and she’s thinking it’s probably one of her students who didn't show up for finals, wanting to make up for the exam they had missed, even though Emma had made it perfectly clear in the syllabus there were no exceptions for exams. Everyone was to turn in their completed exam to Emma before the end of class that day.

 

Before she can respond to the knock on the door, it’s already being opened, and the person on the other side is stepping into her office.

 

“Sorry there is no makeup exam,” Emma says as she lifts her eyes to the intruder who has already reached the other side of her desk.

 

Emma’s mouth falls agape when she realizes it’s not one of her students. She pulls off her reading glasses, folding them in and placing them on her desk as she stands up. “Sorry, I thought you were…” Emma smiles bashfully, stumbling for words and steering her gaze away to avoid looking him directly in the eye.

 

“One of your students?” he finishes when she’s unable to.

 

“Yeah.” Emma’s eyes move back to him, and her breath catches as his brilliant ones meet hers. He’s wearing a grin that highlights the dimples in his cheeks and is framed by a ginger stubble she’s often thought about, wondering how it would feel pressed against her lips... or other parts of her body. “Sorry.”

 

He is so gorgeous, it’s almost painful.

 

“Don’t be, love, it’s typical this time of year. Everyone wants to leave Storybrooke and get to their families for the holidays.”

 

“Yes, but grades have to be turned in by New Year's Eve. We don’t get an extension, so why should they?” she asks, her tone more serious.

 

“Aye, but it’s Christmas, Swan,” he reminds her, running his hand through his dark, already unruly hair, like he’s been running his hand through it several times that day. “It’s the holiday of giving,” he reminds her with a soft grin as he rounds the corner of her desk and takes a seat on the edge, facing her.

 

“I’m well aware.” Emma picks up the phone from her desk and points the screen at him. “It’s hard to forget when you get a facebook messenger alert every five seconds from your family reminding you just how close we are to Christmas.”

 

Killian chuckles and reaches into his pocket, pulling out his own phone. “I get the same messages, remember?” he teases, holding up the device.

 

Emma lets out a sigh, rests her elbows on the desk and sets down her phone, dragging her palms over her face. “Sorry, I know I’m kind of a scrooge when it comes to Christmas,” she mumbles into her hands.

 

“With good reason,” he adds softly as she lowers her hands and catches his smile fading a bit.

 

“You mean because my fiance dumped me on Christmas Eve last year via text?” she blurts out, her tone a bit sharper than she had intended.

 

Killian offers an apologetic smile, and Emma is flooded with regret at how grumpy she is towards him when all he has done is show her kindness.

 

Emma moves the stack of exams to the side and takes a seat on the edge of the desk next to him. “Sorry, it’s just hard to show up at Christmas alone after I was dumped the last time I went.”

 

Killian graces her with a smile and takes her hand in both of his. Goosebumps crawl over her skin at the contact. “Hey, I never said I blamed you for the way you feel.” His eyes darken, features twisting as his mind wanders and he’s deep in thought. “The holidays aren’t easy for me either, love.”

 

“I know,” Emma says in merely a whisper, her heart aching for him. She feels awful for sulking over a fiance who had broken up with her when Killian had lost his wife to cancer a few years ago during the weeks leading up to Christmas. “I can’t even imagine what you went through.”

 

“I wouldn’t wish it on anyone,” Killian says with a broken smile.  

 

“How do you do it?”

 

Killian lifts his eyebrows, a questioning look etched in his features. “How do I do what?”

 

“How do you return to Ruth’s every Christmas with a cheerful smile on your face after what happened?”

 

Killian shrugs and releases her hands gripping the edge of the desk on either side of him as he peers down at the floor. “I may seem happy and cheerful on the outside, but on the inside… there’s a raging storm brewing inside me just threatening to break through,” he replies softly.

 

“I know,” Emma comments softly. “I know when people are lying, remember? When you say you’re okay, I know you’re really not.”

 

Killian lifts his eyes, offering a frail smile. “You know, Emma, you’re about the only one who gets me. Everyone else thinks I’ve just flipped a switch and that I’m ready to get back out there and move on with someone else, but they don't know how hard it is.”

 

“They don't know loss as you do, but they can only hope you are doing better and wish you the best.”

 

“And I wish I was, believe me.”

 

There’s an instance of silence as Emma stares wistfully at the broken man beside her. She remembers the first time she had met him. He was so full of life, he was happy and in love. Emma had begun teaching at Storybrooke University when she’d met him. They both work in the History department at the university, and Emma had a huge schoolgirl crush on him… until she’d found out he was married. As if finding that out, weren’t cruel enough, she’d also found out their older brothers were college buddies before they had moved away from Storybrooke after graduation. And every year the Jones brothers and their wives were invited to Christmas at Ruth’s, and every year, Emma wishes she were the one going as Killian’s date.

 

So when she’d met Neal, things seemed to take a positive turn… until Killian had lost Milah, and two years later, Neal had decided to break off the engagement with Emma on Christmas Eve. He’d made some excuse as to why he couldn’t go with her, saying he was snowed in at the JFK airport when attempting to come home from his business trip. It turned out, his business trip was a beautiful scientist he’d been seeing for months before he’d decided to call it quits with Emma. So, she and Killian are both single, unlike any other year, but they’ve been too busy picking up the broken pieces of their pasts. Fate not only had a cruel way of throwing a wrench in one’s plans, it also had a cruel way of making plans come together.

 

“Shouldn’t you be leaving for Oklahoma?” Emma asks him, changing the subject into something less painful.

 

“Aye, I was going to leave tonight. I just finished some things in my office so I thought I’d stop by and see if you’re okay since you haven’t responded to anyone's messages in the group chat.”

 

Emma sighs as she’s reminded of her family and their impatience when she doesn’t get back with them immediately. “Let me guess, my brother put you up to this?”

 

“No, love, I promise you I came here on my own free will,” he assures her.

 

Emma nods, accepting his answer. “I plan on going, I just wanted to finish grading exams first. I’ll probably leave the day after tomorrow, which will mean I’ll arrive late Christmas Eve, so it’s perfect.”

 

Killian scratches behind his ear, which is a habit Emma has learned he fails to resist when he's nervous. Another dead giveaway of the panic he's experiencing is the way his cheeks are turning an adorable shade of pink. “Well, love, seeing as we’re both going, perhaps we could ride together? I wouldn’t want you to have to drive all the way there alone, and this way we can save on gas taking one car as opposed to two.”

 

“Oh uh…” Emma stammers and her mouth hangs open, his question taking her off guard. “That's okay, I've made the trip alone before, and besides, I don't want you to have to delay leaving because of me.”

 

“Well, how would you feel about a compromise? We could leave tomorrow morning,” Killian suggests.

 

She likes the idea of driving there with him, but on the other hand, being trapped in a car with her ridiculously attractive colleague could pose a problem, one that Emma’s not sure she’s brave enough to face. “I don’t know, I’m not in a terrible rush to be reminded of how single I am,” Emma laughs wryly. “And having to tell them I won't be bringing a boyfriend to Christmas is even more of a reason to dread going.”

 

“Tell me about it,” Killian says, rolling his eyes. “Last year neither Mary Margaret or Liam could accept that I came alone, hoping I was able to move on already.”

 

“Yeah you would think they would back off a little, but nope, I don't think they’re incapable of such a thing. Even if we arrived together, we’d still both be single,” Emma grumbles resentfully. She almost wishes she could tell them Killian’s her boyfriend just so she doesn't have to be nagged about being single.

 

“Aye, love, it makes me wish that we’re going together as a couple so they’ll shut their mouths.”

 

Emma’s about to say she was just thinking the exact same thing when suddenly Killian’s statement, as playful as it was, gives her an idea. “Wait…” she begins, her eyes widening as she considers the thought and stands up, turning to face him.

 

“What is it?” he asks, peaked with curiosity.

 

“What if we did go as a couple? Would you be opposed to the idea?”

 

Blush paints Killian’s cheeks as he scratches behind his ear again. “Emma, that’s a nice idea, but I don’t remember either of us asking the other out.”

 

“Well, I don't mean as a real couple. We could just tell everyone we're a couple to get them off our backs.”

 

“Really? Are you sure, love?”

 

Emma shrugs nonchalantly, somehow able to hide the anxiety she feels about the whole idea. “I mean, why not? We already know each other and we work at the same university, so it wouldn’t be that much of a stretch to say we‘re together romantically. Then when we come back here we can just tell them we broke up.” As Emma is presenting this crazy idea to him, she’s still conflicted about spending an entire day of driving with him, not to mention the fact that if they’re a couple, Ruth will probably have them share a room at her house.

 

Killian stands up, and as he begins pacing her office, she can see him caving in because, _dammit,_ it really is the perfect solution to their problems.

 

He mulls it over a moment though, and maybe for dramatic effect, or maybe he really is debating whether he should agree to it or not, because why would a man like Killian Jones be interested in being with her, or at least pretend to be? He’s handsome and witty and smart, and she’s… well, she’s Emma. She’s always been the ugly duckling who nobody had wanted until Ruth adopted her when she was fourteen and was tired of bouncing around to different group homes. Then again, Killian also became an orphan when he was a teenager and was raised by Liam when their parents died. So in that regard, she and Killian had at least one thing in common, other than their occupations as History professors. Not to mention, they are both far too accustomed to dealing with loss.

 

Killian pauses in his tracks and turns around, a thoughtful expression still written all over the lines of his face. Who is she kidding though? He doesn’t even like getting too close to her in family photos at Christmas, Ruth always has to tell him to move closer, so why would he want to accept her proposition?

 

“You really don’t have to, it was a stupid—”

 

“It’s an excellent idea, Emma, and it would be my pleasure to tell everyone we’re together.”

 

“Really?”

 

A smile stretches over his lips, and Emma can see the authenticity of his words buzzing in those alluring blue eyes. “Does it look like I’m lying?”

 

She shakes her head, a laugh escaping her mouth. “No, not at all.”

 

A torrent of feelings rush through her system; she’s relieved, she’s excited—no _ecstatic—_ Killian has agreed to this, but at the same time she’s a complete trainwreck. She’s going to be spending twenty-seven hours alone with Killian Jones.

 

Then again, what could possibly go wrong?

 

~*~

 

Killian arrives at Emma’s house early the next morning with nervous butterflies flapping around in his stomach. He grabs the two Starbucks coffees he’d procured on the drive there, and when he reaches her building, he takes a deep, wobbly breath and presses the buzzer of the apartment number she’d given him. Hearing the door buzz, he opens it, stepping into the building, and sashays up the stairs to her apartment.

 

With a tentative knock, he waits with bated breath. He’s not sure how to feel about the set of circumstances which have brought him to her doorstep. He likes the idea of spending time with Emma; he just doesn’t like the part about having to fake a relationship with her.

 

“Hey, Killian, come in,” Emma greets him, frazzled and almost out of breath as she opens the door. “I’m almost ready, I just have to get a couple things and then we can go.”

 

“Take your time, love,” he assures and notices Emma's eyes gravitating towards the items in his hands. “I brought you some coffee,” he announces with a cheeky grin, holding up one of the beverages.

 

He loves the way her green eyes light up as she takes in the sight of the red and white holiday cup with the Starbucks trademark and the brown sleeve wrapped around it. “Thank you so much, I’ve been dying for some coffee,” she says, taking it appreciatively.

 

“You’re very welcome. It’s a chocolate macchiato with cinnamon and whip cream. Just the way you like it.”

 

Emma takes a sip and lets her eyes fall shut, appreciating the way the hot liquid hits her tongue. He watches her intently, his eyes following the tip of her tongue as she licks her lips to clean off the remnants of cream that lingers around her mouth. “You are such a good boyfriend,” she comments with a small smile, and he has to tear his eyes away from her lips, lest she catch him staring.

 

“I try to be.” Killian dazzles her with a smirk, his cheeks reddening as he tilts his head.

 

“No seriously, you are such a lifesaver, I could kiss you,” she says before taking another sip, and heads inside the apartment.

 

Killian almost drops his coffee, his mouth falling open at the thought of Emma’s lips on his. He’s only imagined what it would be like to kiss her once... or twice... or perhaps a thousand times before. “It’s not a problem, Swan,” he reassures her, taking a step into her flat. He slips his free hand into his jeans pocket as she walks to her closet. “We’re already going to the same place, so it only makes sense to drive together.”

 

Emma retrieves a red wool jacket, and Killian takes her coffee, setting the beverages on the bar counter, which separates the main room from the kitchen. “Well yes, but I was talking about you pretending to be my boyfriend. I mean it’s kind of an odd thing to ask a colleague.”

 

He grabs her jacket, holding it up so she can slide her arms in the sleeves. “Ah, well like I said, Emma, we both have the same dilemma, and we’re saving gas by traveling together, so why not kill three birds with one stone?”

 

“Well, when you put it like that, I don't feel so bad,” Emma agrees with a laugh, pulling out a pair of knitted gloves and her grey beanie from the jacket pockets.

 

“Is there any luggage you would like me to carry?”

 

“Just a suitcase,” Emma replies, leaving him briefly to retrieve it.

 

He takes the opportunity to look around her tidy apartment and the framed photos hanging on her walls and scattered around the room. He's even in one of them, along with everyone else in the group photo from last year’s Christmas. Ruth has an old camera, which was her late husband's, and she always sets the timer so they can all be in the photo. Somehow Killian always ends up standing next to Emma when they pose for the group picture, and Ruth always has to tell him to move in closer. He’s always hesitant because as much as he _wants_ to get closer to her, he doesn't want to invade her space or make her feel uncomfortable. And perhaps there are other reasons as well.

 

Emma returns and sets her luggage on the floor, interrupting his thoughts.

 

“Allow me?” he asks, pointing at the suitcase.

 

“Oh, you don't have to, I’m capable of carrying my own stuff,” she assures him.

 

“I’m aware, Swan, I’m only offering as a gentleman, and may I add, your boyfriend for the time being,” he says with a cheeky grin as he picks up her luggage. “Grab the coffees and I'll get the suitcase?”

 

Emma rolls her eyes, a smile taking over her lips as she opens the door for him and grabs the coffees. “Fine.” They head out the door, and she tucks one of the cups in the crook of her arm so she can lock up before they make their way towards the staircase. “And as my temporary boyfriend, I expect you to show up at my door with coffee in the mornings and nightly foot rubs for the duration of the trip.”

 

Killian chuckles as they head down the steps. “You’re a very needy girlfriend.”

 

“What can I say, I have lots of needs,” Emma teases, but in reality, Killian has never known her to be a needy person. “Actually, I’ve never had a boyfriend who did any of those things for me. Neal never brought me coffee or opened doors for me, and he sure as hell never rubbed my feet unless he was hoping for something in return.”

 

Killian’s eyes darken as Emma tells him these things, though he’s not at all surprised. He’s witnessed the kind of man Neal is, and to say the bloke doesn't deserve a woman like Emma—a woman with fire in her eyes, a warm soul (despite the mean front she puts on display occasionally) and the passion in her heart—would be an understatement.

 

“You’re the best boyfriend I’ve ever had, and you’re not even my real boyfriend,” Emma adds as they walk outside where the winter winds bluster against their faces, giving them a small dose of whiplash.

 

Killian wants to say something regarding Neal to support her statement, but instead, he keeps it to himself. The last thing he wants to do is upset her.

 

“Hey, where are you going?” Emma asks when Killian starts heading towards his sharp blue BMW, her words laced with confusion.

 

“We’re taking my car,” he replies, continuing his trek.

 

“Why not mine?”

 

“Love, no offense, but my car will get us to Oklahoma, yours will not,” he points out, opening his trunk and tucking away her suitcase before letting the trunk lid fall shut.

 

“Hey, what’s wrong with my Volkswagen?” she asks defensively. “It's a classic car.”

 

“That's not always a good thing, Swan,” he remarks with a laugh. “For example, does your Volkswagen have heated seats?”

 

She lifts a brow to her forehead.“Yours has heated seats?”

 

“Sure does,” he boasts cockily.

 

“Fine, you win...” she relents with a playful eyeroll and walks to Killian’s car as he makes his way to the passenger side and opens the door for her. “Thanks, mister fancy pants,” she says sarcastically as she she gets in. Killian shuts the door and goes around to the driver's side, chuckling to himself.

 

“Hey, just think of it this way, you won't have to pay for gas,” he says once they're settled in, seatbelts secured.

 

“You know I don't mind chipping in gas money.” 

 

“Emma, I don’t expect you to. We’re taking my car so I’m more than happy to take care of the gas expense.”

 

She accepts his reassurance, offering him a smile. “You really are a good boyfriend, aren't you?”

 

Killian starts up the car and cocks his head to the side, throwing her a lopsided smirk. “I don't like to brag, but I am known to be a pretty great boyfriend, actually.”

 

Emma laughs, once again rolling her eyes. “I would never take you for the bragging type,” she jests playfully.

 

“Oi, I am very modest,” he assures and pulls out of the parking spot, driving out of the lot.

 

“Whatever you say, honey,” she teases, lifting her hand to squeeze his shoulder.

 

Killian’s stomach does somersaults at her touches and how she teases him like they're actually dating. He knows she's just practicing for when they arrive at Ruth's house, but is it so wrong for him to want this be real?

 

She removes her hand from his shoulder, and he immediately misses her touch. “So, we should probably talk about how we started dating,” Emma suggests, initiating the inevitable discussion of details, each of them tossing ideas back and forth. Sometime during the discussion, they realize since they’re now supposedly a couple, they should get each other gifts, but then decide against it, seeing as they’re telling everyone the relationship is new.

 

~*~

 

They arrive in Massachusetts an hour later when Emma finally texts Mary Margaret privately to let her know she and Killian are on their way. (If she’d mentioned a boyfriend in a group chat, her sister-in-law would’ve known she's bluffing.)

 

**_I'm riding with Killian—E_ **

 

Gnawing on her bottom lip, she sends the message and quickly adds on:

 

**_Btw we're dating now—E_ **

 

As soon as she fires off the message, butterflies start fluttering around in her stomach.

 

A second passes (literally only a second) and Emma's phone is ringing in her hand as she receives a video chat from her sister-in-law. Emma laughs and accepts the call. “Wow, that was fast, I'm impressed.”

 

“You're dating Killian?!” Mary Margaret shouts jubilantly and is loud enough, Emma's sure everyone in the entire two-story house can hear her.

 

Killian chuckles at the woman's excitement, and Emma points the screen at him.

 

“Tell her, baby.”

 

Killian keeps his eyes on the road, only briefly glancing at the screen. “That's right, lass.”

 

“We were going to surprise you, but we didn't want to keep it to ourselves any longer,” Emma explains, returning the screen to her face.

 

“David, did you hear that?! Emma and Killian are dating!” Mary Margaret calls out, looking off to the side.

 

Emma has to suppress her laughter, relieved that her sister-in-law is buying this.

 

“Where's Killian?” David asks, his face now visible, a confused frown settled in his features.

 

“He's right here driving.”

 

“Let me talk to him.”

 

“Here he is.” Once again, Emma brings the phone up by Killian’s face, aiming the screen at him.

 

“Why didn't you tell me you were dating my sister?” David demands in his protective, older brother tone.

 

“Sorry, mate, it's very new.”

 

“How new?”

 

“Two weeks,” he answers, as he and Emma had discussed before she had texted Mary Margaret.

 

“Well, it's about time.”

 

Emma's eyes widen in surprise and she sees the blush tingeing Killian’s cheeks

 

“After both of you became single, Liam and I had a bet going to see how long it would take for you two to get together.”

 

Killian scowls at the screen and returns his eyes to the road. “You what?”

 

“Killian, we were only playing around. You and Emma are perfect for each other, we've both always thought so, we're just surprised you two didn't get together sooner.”

 

“Can I speak with my brother, please?” Killian asks curtly.

 

“Sure.” David leaves the phone with Mary Margaret and comes back with Liam a moment later.

 

“Is it true, little brother? Are you really dating Emma?”

 

“Bloody hell, it’s _younger_ brother, and yes I am. The better question is why are you placing bets on our romantic lives?”

 

“Oh relax, Killian, it was eight months ago, and we just bet twenty bucks and a lifetime supply of beer.”

 

“And should I dare ask who won?”

 

“It was me, actually,” Liam gloats with a smug grin. “David said you two would be together in a month, and I said six, so close enough.”

 

“Can I have the phone back, please?” Mary Margaret begs, and men disperse, the brunette once again appearing on the screen. “Okay, I want to know everything.”

 

“For the record, not all of us want to know _everything,”_ David adds, poking his head in front of the screen.

 

 _“You_ don't have to.” Mary Margaret rolls her eyes at her husband and playfully shoves him aside.

 

Emma shouldn't be surprised her sister-in-law can't wait until they arrive to get all the info, but Emma surmises it's a good thing to get it all out of the way now, rather than be bombarded and suffocated by everyone with all of their questions at Ruth's. She regales Mary Margaret with a made-up tale about how she and Killian had been dancing around their feelings for each other until he finally had the courage to ask her out for coffee. Emma tells her they've gone out to lunch or dinner every day since then before they’d decided to make things official between them by going to Ruth's together, and Mary Margaret eagerly gobbles up every word.

 

“I'm so happy for you two!” she cries out ecstatically, her cheeks swollen with how much she's smiling.

 

Suddenly Emma is reminded of why she’d thought of this idea in the first place—to make her family happy.

 

“Drive safe!” Mary Margaret tells them before they end the call.

 

“Typical,” Killian remarks, rolling his eyes. “I lost my wife and you had your heart broken, and still our brothers have to make a wager on our romantic lives.”

 

Emma raises her eyebrows and tilts her head, replying with “Are you really surprised? You’re talking about our meddlesome families,” Emma reminds him with a laugh.

 

“Aye, but still, I have to apologize for my brother.”

 

“Please, my brother's not any better.”

 

“They're both stubborn asses,” Killian and Emma chant at the same time and chuckle at themselves.

 

“Oh boy, what did we sign up for?” Emma asks, the laughter slowly dying in her throat.

 

“I’m not exactly sure, but whatever happens, we can get through it together, right love?”

 

Emma nods, ready to handle anything thrown their way. “Exactly.”

 

They drive for seven hours, playing a game of history trivia since both of them are huge history nerds. They stop occasionally for bathroom breaks, food and gas, and switch seats so Killian can rest his eyes for a beat. The drive is mostly pleasant, the casual chit-chat and the radio keeping them occupied. The weather is thankfully not too bad; it's windy and there are the occasional icy spots on the road, but it's mostly clear, with the exception of delicate snowflakes sprinkling the road. Once they reach Columbus, Ohio, the halfway point, it’s nearly ten o'clock and Emma scours out the hotel Killian had reserved the night before. With a yawn, she pulls into the parking lot and finds a spot, shutting off the engine.

 

They’re both exhausted as Killian grabs both of the suitcases (she doesn't have the energy to argue with him about it) and they trudge inside the hotel, approaching the front desk.

 

The clerk greets them and pulls up their reservations, but apparently, there seems to be some confusion. “I apologize Mr. Jones, but I only have one room under your name.”

 

“Well, then do you have another room available? We need two.”

 

The receptionist shakes her head. “I'm sorry, we're completely booked for the night. We won't have another one until tomorrow afternoon.”

 

“That won't do, we're only staying for one night. Does the room at least have two beds?”

 

“I'm sorry, there is only one king-sized bed, but there is also a sofa.”

 

Killian looks at Emma, eyes full of apology as he pulls her off to the side, asking the clerk to give them a moment. “Sorry, love, I really did reserve two rooms. If you want to find another hotel—”

 

“No, it’s okay, we won't have any better luck at this hour. We'll just make due.”

 

“Alright, well you can have the bed, and I'll take the sofa.”

 

“Whichever you prefer, I don't mind sleeping on the sofa.”

 

“Emma, I insist you take the bed.”

 

“Why don’t we just decide when we get to our room?” Emma sighs, growing annoyed, but not with Killian, only with the situation and the need to sleep in a bed regardless of who's there in the room with her. Thirteen hours on the road and half of it driving has made her a little surly.

 

They return to the desk, and Killian pulls out his credit card. “We’ll take the room.”

 

“Killian, you don’t have to—”

 

“Emma, I don’t mind, really.”

 

“But I would like to pay since your paying for the gas, especially if you’ll be the one sleeping on the couch.” Emma pulls out her card, handing it to the receptionist.

 

He sighs and slips his card back into his wallet. “You are a stubborn lass, you know that?”

 

Emma flashes him a tired smile. “So people have told me.”

 

Once they receive their key cards, they take the elevator to the fourth floor with their luggage in tow and find their room. Normally Emma would be nervous about spending a night in the same room with Killian alone, but she’s far too tired to think about the circumstances at the moment. She's also far too hungry, and when they enter the room and deposit their suitcases on the floor, a rumble comes from her belly.

 

“Would you like to get something to eat, Swan? I can go pick up something for us. I saw a Chinese place close by that's still open, I can just walk over. I need to get out and stretch my legs anyway.”

 

Emma nods in acceptance. “Chinese food sounds amazing actually, and I’m going to take a shower while you’re gone. I feel gross from being in the car for thirteen hours,” she laughs weakly, unzipping her suitcase.

 

“Sounds like a plan, Swan,” he agrees with a warm smile. Her heart flutters with the way he looks at her, and she feels bad for snapping at him in the lobby. “What would you like?” Killian finds a pad of paper on the desk to jot down what she wants and calls the restaurant to order their food.

 

As he’s on the phone, Emma returns to her suitcase to find a pair of pajamas when she realizes her mistake. “Shit!” she curses, feeling like a dumbass.

 

Concern washes over Killian’s features as he finishes the phone call and tucks the device into the inside pocket of his jacket. “What’s wrong, love?”

 

“I…” Emma digs through her clothes to be certain, but sure enough, there are no clothes she can wear to bed, only jeans and the outfit she’d planned on wearing on Christmas Eve. “I didn’t bring any pajamas. I didn’t know I’d be sharing a room with someone,” she states, a light blush creeping into her cheeks.

 

“Oh, that’s okay, you can borrow one of my t-shirts.” Killian goes to his suitcase and searches through his clothes, “which apparently I only brought one of,” he chuckles in amusement. “I didn’t think to bring pajamas either, for the same reason. I always sleep in my birthday suit,” he confesses as an adorable shade of red flushes his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

 

“I always sleep in my underwear, and I always leave a few pairs of pajamas at Ruth’s when I visit.”

 

“I do the same, and every year we get at least two more sets of pajamas for Christmas, so I wasn't worried about bringing any with me.”

 

They share a laugh at the situation, and Killian ends up tossing her the t-shirt, which Emma catches with hesitant hands. “I’ll sleep in my boxers, but I’ll wait until the lights are out to take my pants off,” he assures her.

 

“Thank you,” she giggles, appearing to be nonchalant on the outside, but her stomach is doing flips on the inside at the thought of wearing his shirt. It’s certainly going to be a long night.

 

“Not a problem. Thank you for covering the room, Swan.”

 

Emma offers a small smile. “No problem. And sorry if I seemed agitated in the lobby. I'm just tired is all.”

 

“No need to apologize, love, we're taking the same trip, so I know exactly how you feel,” he chuckles. “The food will take a half an hour, so I’ll probably be gone when you get out of the shower, but I’ll be back soon.”

 

“Okay.” Emma heads to the bathroom with a bag of her toiletries and his t-shirt and shuts the door behind her. After setting her things on the countertop, she turns on the shower, undresses and tosses her clothes on the floor.

 

~*~

 

Killian takes a deep breath, one he didn’t even know he was holding when he steps out of the hotel room and tilts his head back, resting it on the door behind him. He’d said thirty minutes, but leaving sooner had seemed like a good idea, considering she’s naked in the bathroom; he was afraid his body would start reacting to the images flooding his mind. He tries not to think about her that way, but Gods he can’t help it. She’s so beautiful, with golden blonde hair, luminous green eyes and long, sexy legs. Not to mention her soft curves he wants to stroke and feel under his fingertips.

 

And it’s going to be so much worse when he returns to the room because she'll be smelling like scented shampoo and body wash, and she’ll be wearing his t-shirt. The same shirt he wears all the time will be sheathing her beautiful, soft skin and coated with her lovely scent.

 

 _Bloody hell,_ he really needs to get a grip.

 

She’s a family friend and a colleague. He needs to stop thinking about her any other way. But as he takes the elevator and walks to the restaurant in the bitterly frigid cold, he can’t get the images of her wearing only his shirt, out of his head.  

 

When he goes inside the restaurant to wait for the food, he tries to distract himself by playing on his phone and reading the group messages on his facebook messenger.

 

The food arrives ten minutes earlier than expected, he pays at the register and he leaves with a takeout bag. Heading back to the hotel, he forces himself not to think about the blonde temptress he’s sharing a room with for the night.

 

~*~

 

Cracking the bathroom door open and poking her head out to see Killian is still gone, even though it’s only been twenty minutes, she steps out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her body. She reaches her suitcase to retrieve the comb she'd forgotten to grab before stepping into the shower. As she finds the travel bag she had slipped it in, she takes it out as her towel slips from her body and falls to the floor, pooling around her feet. Emma’s not in a huge rush to pick it up, it’s rather warm in the hotel room and she can almost feel the steam coming from the bathroom.

 

She starts combing her wet locks and heads to the bathroom, entering the fogged up room. She shuts the door behind her before realizing she’d left her wet towel on the floor. Not wanting Killian to think she’s a slob who doesn't pick up after herself should be second priority, she’ll be the first to admit, but it doesn’t stop her from leaving the bathroom bare naked as she continues to comb through her wet, tangled hair.

 

As she makes her way to the foot of the bed where her towel is lying crumpled up on the floor, the door is being opened and Killian is entering the room.

 

~*~

 

He's expecting her to still be in the bathroom, but when he enters the room, his feet halt immediately when he catches the scene before him.

 

He doesn’t mean to, but his eyes are drawn to Emma’s stunning, naked figure when she emerges from the bathroom. His gaze sweeps over her soft curves and a set of the most gorgeous breasts he's ever seen, her pale pink nipple stiffened by the droplets of water rolling down from her hair and leaving a thin, wet trail across her creamy skin.

 

“Oh my god!” Emma screams when she realizes he’s there, and stops in her tracks, paralyzed with embarrassment, her eyes widened in horror. She attempts to cover up what she can, one arm draped over her breasts and the other hand covering her nub as she folds her right knee over her left one, using her leg as a shield.

 

Killian finds it within him to turn away and close his eyes. She immediately bends over to pick up her towel and flees to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

 

He has to pick up his jaw from the floor, unbidden images of Emma's beautiful, naked form permanently etched in his mind.

 

_Bloody hell._


	2. Chapter 2

Emma uses the door to hold herself up, her back pressed against it as she tries to get the air back in her lungs, chest rising and falling heavily with each breath.

 

_Fuck._

 

She has to peel herself off the floor to gather her wits and courage before pulling on her light pink panties and Killian’s t-shirt. She tugs on a pair of jeans for the time being; even though he’s seen her naked, she’s still uncomfortable with the idea of him seeing her in just a t-shirt and underwear. In fact, the incident has made her even more uncomfortable.

 

She can try to draw out her time in the bathroom as long as possible, too embarrassed to face him, but instead, she comes to the conclusion she has nothing to be embarrassed about. She's not ashamed of her body; besides, he's the one who came back earlier than expected.

 

So, once her hair is thoroughly combed and kept down to airdry, she leaves the bathroom as though nothing had happened. Killian is taking out the carton of rice and containers of the entrees they had ordered, placing them on the table as she approaches.

 

“Thank you for getting the food.”

 

Killian jumps a little at her voice and turns his head to look at her. His cheeks and ears are flushed with red, and Emma has to restrain herself from laughing at how adorable he looks.

 

“It's not a problem, love.” He peels his eyes away and picks up one of the containers, handing it to her. “And sorry I…” His words catch in his throat as he avoids looking at her.

 

“Don't worry about it,” she assures offering a small smile when he glances up at her in surprise. “I'll forget about it if you do.”

 

“Love, I don't believe I'll be able to forget about that… I mean… because you're… you’re beautiful… not that I was staring...” As he stammers on, his cheeks only grow redder.

 

“Killian, its okay,” she laughs, adding some rice to her chicken and vegetables. “By forgetting, I mean pretending it never happened. What happened happened, so let's not talk about it and enjoy our dinner, shall we?”

 

Killian gives her a retreating smile and a soft nod. “Of course, Emma. My apologies.”

 

“No more apologies,” she says firmly, taking her tray of food and turning around, heading for the bed.

 

“Sorry, love—I mean yes, I can manage that.”

 

Killian procures his food and joins her on the bed, both sitting against the headboard as Emma turns on the television, surfing through the channels to see what's on. Thankfully they manage to eat their meals in peace without mentioning the incident.

 

~*~

 

Killian punches the pillow in frustration and rolls around on his back, expelling a deep breath. He'd made a promise he'd forget… well technically he'd told her he wouldn't be able to, but he’d promised himself he would. Not that he wants to forget seeing a fantastic body like Emma's, but the problem is, his fairly innocent mind is being intruded with naughty thoughts of her lovely figure as he hears her breathing softly from across the room in naught but a pair of knickers and his favorite t-shirt underneath the covers. So for the sake of acquiring a good night's sleep, he _needs_ to forget.

 

“Can't sleep either?”

 

Emma's question surprises him; with how quiet she was a second ago, and how little she has moved since they'd said goodnight, he was sure she was already sleeping soundly. “Not a wink.”

 

“Me neither.” Another bout of silence falls over the room but is broken again a moment later by Emma’s soft voice. “Thank you for coming with me, Killian.” It's a simple gesture, but he can't help but notice the weight behind her words.

 

“I told you, love, it's not a problem.”

 

“No, I really mean it. I wouldn't even be taking this trip if not for you. In fact, I really didn't want to.”

 

“How come?”

 

Her response is delayed, the words a bit cracked when she speaks again, as though she’s been dwelling on this topic for some time now. “Since Neal… ever since he left, I didn’t want to show up to Christmas alone. I’m sure you must’ve felt the same without Milah, right?”

 

“Aye,” he replies, the single word pained with the emotions the subject brings forth.

 

“Sorry, I don’t mean to bring all this stuff up, it’s just…” her words are cut off by a choked cry. “It’s just I’m really glad you’re coming with me. I really didn’t want to make this trip alone.”

 

Killian can hear her crying some more and it breaks his heart. He even contemplates crossing the room and comforting her. What Neal did was downright cruel. What Killian knows about what happened from Liam and David is the guy proposed to Emma, then six months later broke off the engagement to be with someone else. And he broke up with her via text while he was shacking up with someone else in New York. After the incident, Emma had shoved her feelings down and refused to get emotional about the whole ordeal… until now. So, of course she needs to be comforted.

 

Without giving it another thought, Killian gets up from the couch and strides over to the bed, but it’s not out of obligation. He goes to her because he _wants_ to comfort her and tell her everything’s going to be okay. He lifts the blankets, crawling in next to her, and by the time he pulls her into his arms, wrapping her up in his embrace, Emma is a mess of tears. She immediately welcomes his offer to comfort her and throws her arms around him, crying into his chest, the dams breaking as she finally lets herself go, her warm body shaking in his hold as she releases more tears.

 

Killian rubs her back in soothing circles and drops a kiss to the crown of her head. “It’s okay, Emma. You’re not alone. I’m here,” he gently murmurs, and what he wants to say is _I’ll always be here_ and perhaps something else, but he doesn’t. Instead, he just cradles her in his arms, rocking her gently, his chest hair sponging up her tears as he lets her cry to her heart’s content. He even warms up her feet under the covers, even though her toes feel like little ice daggers against his ankles, making him hiss.

 

“Sorry,” she says with a sniffle, moving her feet away from him.

 

“It’s okay, love, you're more than welcome to use me as a feet warmer,” he says with a soft chuckle.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Aye, love, please do,” he answers quickly

 

So she does, pressing her toes against the warmth his body provides and he rubs her feet between his own to create some friction, their legs interlocking underneath the covers. Her body feels amazing in his arms as she snuggles closer, her soft breaths blowing through his chest hair. He tightens his arms around her protectively as she nestles her head in the middle of his chest and they stay like that long after her toes are warmed.

 

~*~

 

Emma wakes to a warm glow shining through the large windows as the sun rises. Her brain is foggy with sleep when she squints her eyes, and it takes a moment for her to remember where she is—a hotel in Columbus, Ohio. She sighs deeply and lets her eyes fall shut again, not really wanting to get up yet. But she knows Killian will probably want to get going as early as possible. In fact, he’s probably up from the sofa by now.

 

“I’ll be up soon,” she mumbles, her voice as groggy as she feels. When she yawns and stirs, trying to will herself to move from the bed, her brain slowly waking and becoming aware of her surroundings, she’s a bit confused when she feels the very warm and very toned arms secured around her frame. And when she opens one eye, she sees her handsome colleague sleeping right there, breathing softly, his chest slowly rising and falling as he sleeps. His bright blue eyes are hidden by his closed eyelids, his long lashes resting against his cheeks. She also notices how little clothes they’re wearing. She’s in his t-shirt and her panties and he’s only wearing his boxers.

 

 _Wait. What happened last night_ is the first question she asks herself, trying to put the pieces of last night together.

 

_Oh God._

 

The memories come flooding back to her and it’s the worst possible thing she could've done with him last night.

 

She’d cried in front of this gorgeous man.

 

Of all the times she chose to finally express her grief after what Neal had done to her, she picked being cooped up in a hotel room with Killian.

 

Ugh, she’s such an idiot.

 

And he was so kind and such a gentleman, but still, she feels pathetic opening up to him like that. There’s nil she can do about it now, though. The damage has been done. Now she has to figure out how to escape his hold without disturbing him.

 

Slowly and carefully, she rolls over to her other side, facing away from him. She gently lifts his arm that’s splayed over her stomach, but her actions backfire and he tightens his hold around her, pulling her closer and sighing in her hair. Emma starts to panic, but it’s not as though she doesn't appreciate being in his arms, because God, she does. His body feels incredible against hers—the way his breath tickles the back of her neck and the way his hand curls protectively around her belly. But she’s afraid he’ll wake up, and she’s already embarrassed enough as it is from her breakdown last night.

 

So, she tries once again to lift his arm, letting it fall to his side, but as she shifts around, his hand manages to gravitate to her hip and she jumps, accidentally pressing her butt against his groin. A gasp flies from her mouth and an unintelligible groan comes from his throat as she feels the prominent hardness in his boxers pressed up against her ass.

 

Heat surges through her, but the need to remove herself from the bed is even stronger. This time she’s not worried about waking him, and practically jumps out of bed, but as she turns around to see if he wakens, her heart sinks when his hand reaches for the now empty spot on the bed, as though reaching for something to hold onto, but without success.

 

Emma has to shake off any effect he has on her and rushes to her suitcase on the dresser and retrieves a pair of jeans, quickly pulling them on. She grabs her key card and some cash from her purse and throws on her jacket, fleeing the hotel room as though her heels are on fire.

 

~*~

 

Disappointment flares in Killian’s gut when he wakes up and realizes Emma’s no longer in the bed with him. He sits up, planting his bare feet on the floor as he rubs the sleep from his eyes.

 

At the same moment, he looks down and realizes he’s supporting an unbearably hard, morning erection.

 

_Bloody hell._

 

He didn’t even have a naughty dream, as tempting as it was while Emma was clad in only a shirt and her knickers. He’d made a promise to himself he would not think about her as any more than a friend while she was crying in his arms. He cares about her too much and is too much of a gentleman to have sexual fantasies about a damsel in distress seeking comfort in him and trusting him enough to cry in his arms.

 

Killian tries to think about other things that will help to coax him down from his current state, but before he gets the chance, the door is slowly being opened. He quickly pulls the comforter over his lap to hide his erection just as Emma is poking her head through the crack of the door.

 

“Are you decent in here?”

 

He certainly doesn't feel decent.

 

“Aye, love, come in,” he chuckles lightly at how careful she is to enter the room after the incident from last night when he had walked in on her naked.

 

 _Fuck._ Now is _not_ the time to be thinking about her naked.

 

Killian shifts uncomfortably, trying to conceal the discomfort he feels with his hard… situation.

 

Emma enters the room bearing two cups of Starbucks coffee and her cheerful demeanor is a heavy contrast to the state she was in last night. “I brought your favorite, a salted caramel mocha,” she announces, making her way over to him and handing him the steaming hot beverage.

 

An appreciative smile stretches across his lips as he accepts it. “Thanks, love.”

 

“Not a problem.” Emma slides off her jacket and sets down her coffee, trotting off to the bathroom.

 

Killian is surprised by how cheerful she is, not even mentioning last night.

 

Emma emerges from the room a minute later, a collection of toiletries in her hands as she replaces them in her suitcase. “I knew you probably wanted to hit the road as soon as we can, so I got up early,” she explains zipping up her suitcase and grabbing her coffee.

 

Regret clouds his features as he stares at her, swallowing thickly. “You haven’t been waiting too long for me, have you?”

 

“Oh no, I literally got out of bed like fifteen minutes ago,” she assures him, but suddenly he’s filled panic, hoping she didn't notice his current state as she’d laid in bed with him. “Well, actually I got off the sofa fifteen minutes ago. You were snoring loudly and hogging the covers, so I moved to the sofa in the middle of the night,” she laughs and takes a sip of her coffee.

 

Killian sighs in relief.

 

_Thank the Gods above._

 

When Emma lowers the cup from her lips and takes a deep, wobbly breath, he sees the anxiety buzzing in her eyes and notices her behavior is alluding to nervous energy. She seems skittish as she takes a few steps towards him, her eyes bouncing back and forth between the coffee she’s now cradling in her hands, and him. “Listen, I wanted to thank you, Killian,” she says sincerely, her tone more serious than before. “Thanks for…” Her words trail off as she peers down at the coffee cup once again, and she can’t seem to find the right words. “Well, you know.” She lifts her eyes, the sparkling emeralds meeting his blue ones again.

 

“Of course, Emma.” He graces her with a soft smile and reaches out his free hand, offering it to her. She takes it, a warm smile reaching the corners of her lips, dotting the dimples in her cheeks. “And just so you know, I meant what I said last night,” he murmurs, staring deeply into her eyes, “I’m always here for when you need to… you know,” he finishes, his smile turning sheepish and his cheeks warming with a soft blush.

 

Emma’s lighthearted laugh sets his heart on fire, and the tension between them softens into something more comfortable, but somehow the problem he’s having in his lap is unfortunately not any softer.

 

“Well, I should probably let you get ready,” she says, their hands still linked together.

 

“Right,” he agrees, trying to break free from the trance they’re both in. “I’m definitely in need of a shower.” (A cold and bracing one.)

 

“I’ll just let Mary Margaret know our progress and that we’re getting back on the road, otherwise she’ll start freaking out.”

 

Killian chuckles. “She certainly will. Sounds like a plan, love.”

 

“Okay,” Emma nods, but she doesn't release his hand, and instead, lingers in her spot for a moment, not wanting to leave. He’d be lying if he’d said he wanted her to.

 

Killian clears his throat and decides to take the higher ground for both of them. “Emma, if I’m to shower, I’ll need my hand back.”

 

Emma’s pupils jump and she snatches her hand away. “Oh right, sorry, you definitely need your hand back to shower,” she laughs nervously and backs away. “I’ll let you have some privacy and give Mary Margaret a call.”

 

~*~

 

With breakfast from IHOP in their bellies, they’re on the road again and no longer get on I-70 when it begins snowing, the snowflakes softly landing on the windshield as Killian turns on the wipers. The snowfall is slow and steady, making the drive fairly smooth for three hundred miles or so until the wind and snow gradually pick up. It’s late in the afternoon when they reach St. Louis, Missouri, and a winter storm is rolling in a little too quick for comfort.

 

A blizzard alert is announced on the radio that includes the county they’re passing through, but before they can find an exit with a hotel to take retreat in, the road ahead grows less and less visible as the 35 mph winds cast a heavy blanket of snow, visibly blocking their path, and the road they’re traveling becomes far too slick to drive without sliding into a ditch like several other cars already have along the way, even at a sluggishly slow speed.

 

“Bloody hell,” Killian curses, already going as slowly as he possibly can with his emergency lights blinking, but at this rate, they decide they might as well pull over and wait out the storm.  

 

“It’s okay, they said the warning will only last for another couple of hours, so we should be fine,” Emma says confidently, although it’s a long time to be waiting in the car in a blizzard when it’s a mere fifteen degrees Fahrenheit outside. Then again, she’s endured worse.

 

“I hope so,” he sighs. “I knew I should’ve filled the gas tank an hour ago,” he remarks. Worry is flickering in his eyes and he swallows thickly when he sees the fuel gauge reading at less than a quarter full.

 

“We should shut off the engine to save on fuel.”

 

“But we’ll freeze, love.”

 

“No, we won't. We can use each other for warmth,” Emma suggests without flinching.

 

Killian cocks a brow, looking over at her. “And how do you suppose we do that?”

 

“Well, we have blankets, and with two of us, we can huddle close for even more warmth. I’ve spent far too many nights sleeping in a car when I was a kid. I used to sneak into vehicles that were parked on the streets for shelter, and I was on my own, so a couple hours with both of us sharing the car should not be too bad.”

 

Killian stares at her sadly, but Emma refuses to linger on the topic and instead unbuckles herself and opens the door, moving to the backseat and sliding in, grabbing the folded blankets.

 

“Should we call Ruth and let them know we’ll be home later than expected?”

 

“Not yet, they will lose their minds worrying about us.”

 

“You’re right,” Killian agrees with a nod, and Emma can tell he’s a bit nervous about being stranded in the blizzard as he looks back at her. “Are you sure we shouldn't leave the engine on for a while?” he asks. “Once we start driving we won’t be too far from a rest stop.”

 

“We should really reserve the gas. We don't know how long we’ll be stuck out here, and the longer we have the engine on the more gas we’re wasting.”

 

“Aye, you’re right again, love.”

 

Emma smirks. “I know.”

 

Killian cuts off the engine and joins Emma in the backseat where she is waiting with fluffy blankets. Removing their jackets, they huddle together, although Killian seems reluctant.

 

“Can we just get closer?” she asks, and it’s only so she doesn't freeze. Or so she tells herself. “I promise I don't bite.”

 

“I know, sorry, love.” His eyes are full of apology and he releases a shaky breath before shifting and moving in close. Pulling the jackets and blankets around them, they wrap their arms around one other, using each other’s body heat for warmth.

 

Emma looks out into white haze hanging over them, feels the air temperature drop and the wind pick up, snow drifts sweeping violently around the car. She’s not worried, though. As she nestles her head into the crook of Killian’s neck, she can feel his heart beating softly in his chest, the soothing rhythm relaxing her.

 

The silence is as heavy as the snow landing on the windshield, and Emma knows at this rate, two hours will feel like forever, and not that she minds being wrapped in Killian's arms once again, she knows it's only a matter of time before all of the heat in the car will disappear, so she thinks of a way to pass the time.

 

“Do you want to play a game?” she offers him, probably louder than he expects, since her mouth is not too far from his head, however he doesn't even flinch.

 

“What kind of game?”

 

“How about a game of truth?” Emma suggests, immediately regretting the decision as she lifts her head from his shoulder. She has too many secrets to tell, but none she wants to reveal to Killian, since he is the center of most of them. But there’s a reason why she’s chosen to teach history as a profession—she’s never been much of the creative type. Knowing facts and dates, how wars were started and how shit was invented is much easier than being one of the inventive minds she preaches about to her students.  

 

“Is that like Truth or Dare, except without the dares?”

 

“You got it,” she answers skittishly, wanting to kick herself.

 

“Okay, you’re on, love,” he says with a smirk. “Would you like to start?”

 

“Sure.” Emma thinks about it for a second and decides to keep the topics as less sensitive as possible. “You know what, why not, instead of asking questions, we each reveal something we’ve never told anyone. That way we don’t have to reveal anything that makes us uncomfortable, how about that?”

 

“As you wish,” he agrees indifferently.

 

“Okay, here’s a confession… I always tell Mary Margaret I love her mince pie, but the truth is…” Guilt clouds her expression as she bites her bottom lip. “I don't.”

 

“Really?” Killian questions in bewilderment, a brow arching towards his hairline. “But you always devour every last bite?”

 

“I do it so I don’t hurt her feelings. I mean I love her cooking, don’t get me wrong. Her Kolaches are amazing, but her mince pie, not so much. I don't know if she uses different ingredients or what, but it's just not my favorite.”

 

“Maybe you just don't like mince pies?”

 

“No, that’s the problem, I love Ruth’s, it's delicious. She uses the right balance of cinnamon and nutmeg, without adding too much sugar, and the homemade crust she makes is so good and flaky. And if I told my sister in law I liked Ruth's and not hers, she’d feel like a failure, so you have to promise you won't tell her.”

 

“You have my word, Emma.”

 

“Okay, your turn.”

 

“Hmmm… okay here’s one… when Liam and I were kids, my mum would always make Chex mix during the holidays and my favorite was the peanuts, and Liam would eat every last one to purposely deprive me of them. So to get him back I would always eat all the marshmallows out of the Lucky Charms.”

 

Emma laughs. “Okay, I’ll admit that’s funny, but it doesn't really fit the criteria of being one of your darkest secrets. Liam would have noticed the marshmallows were gone.”

 

“Yes, but I always blamed it on our cousin who stayed over a lot, so actually you are the only one I’ve ever told that to,” he says with a smug grin.

 

“Okay, fair enough.” She purses her lips in contemplation and adds another confession. “When I pair people up for group assignments in my history class, I never let them choose their partners.”

 

Killian cocks his head to the side, lifting a brow. “That's the best you got?”

 

Emma shrugs. “It counts, I’ve never told anyone why I do it.”

 

“And why’s that?”

 

Her features fall at the thought of her painful childhood memories. “Because I know what it’s like to not be picked. When I was in the system, parents never picked me because I was too old... that is until Ruth took me into her home and adopted me. Being rejected fucking sucks and I never want my students to experience that.”

 

Kilian offers a weak smile as he locks eyes with hers and lifts his hand to the apple of her cheek, his thumb idly stroking her there. But he doesn't look at her with pity, only pride, because he knows the of woman she’s become. He knows of her story and still he doesn’t pity her or feel sorry for her, he only regards her with admiration. Emma closes her eyes briefly, enjoying the way he touches her with such care and affection.

 

“Well, I’ll tell you this then, because it will make you like a saint.”

 

“Tell me what?”

 

“In my classes, I love confiscating my students’ phones when they’re texting just so I can see the desperation in their eyes when it goes off in my drawer,” he admits with a crooked grin.

 

“Wow, you’re ruthless,” Emma laughs.

 

Killian shrugs, unwilling to deny it. “You have no idea. Torturing students is why we became instructors, right?”

 

Emma nods, not willing to argue his statement. “I have to say I'm impressed, and you’re right, I do seem like a saint.”

 

They continue with the game, each learning something new about the other, guilty pleasures and embarrassing confessions, anything they can think of without getting too serious. Neither of them even notice how cold the car gets, too caught up in each other's embrace and becoming more comfortable with one another, until things take a sudden turn.

 

“I always thought Neal was a jerk,” he confesses bluntly, “ because of how he treated you and how he always seemed preoccupied whenever he _did_ go to the Christmas gatherings with you. I never told you because I didn't want to make you upset.”

 

Emma's not keen on discussing her ex, but Killian does have a point—Neal is a jerk. “When he and I were dating, I probably would've been upset, but now I can honestly say that’s an understatement. In fact, _jerk_ is too kind of a word for him.”

 

“Aye, you’re right. He’s a selfish idiot who didn't know what he had right in front of his nose.”

 

The sincerity in Killian’s words cause her to tilt her head and look at him, their faces only centimeters apart. “And what would that be?”

 

Killian’s gaze seeps into her soul to the point where she can no longer breathe, her lungs deprived of oxygen. “Someone who’s full of fire and love, someone who’s intelligent…” he pauses, his eyes flickering to her lips as he moves a few strands of loose hair behind her ear. “Someone who’s wickedly gorgeous,” he whispers, his breath ghosting over her lips. He lifts his eyes to hers again, and her breath catches in her throat.

 

The air in the car is terribly thin as Emma seriously contemplates kissing the holy hell out of him. She's always wondered what his beard would feel like pressed to the edge of her lips, wondered what he tastes like and wanted to solve the mystery she's always pondered as to whether he’s a good kisser or not, but who is she kidding? Of course, he's a good kisser. Perhaps an earth-shattering, toe-curling, mind-boggling kisser who can flip her entire world upside down with only his lips.

 

Which is exactly why she can't kiss him.

 

Emma pulls back, turns her head and checks to see if the weather has changed outside. To her relief, the snow has ceased, and the road in front of them is clear. “Look at that, we can get back on the road,” Emma points out, gaze reverting to Killian. She can see the disappointment flickering in his eyes and it pains her, but she knows it's best that their fake relationship stays that way.

 

Removing the blankets from them, she grabs her jacket, and Killian aids her with getting her arms in the sleeves in the cramped space. With her jacket on, she starts to get out of the back seat when he gently places his hand on her arm.

 

“You alright, love?” he asks, and Emma looks at him, offering a weak smile.

 

“Yeah, I'm fine.”

 

“Come on, Emma, you're not the only one who's good at reading people,” he says, his words wrecked, and it makes Emma realize he was hurt when she didn't kiss him. “After we've shared so many secrets with each other, you can at least tell me when something's bothering you. Did I do something to upset you?”

 

“No, you didn't, just…” Killian’s eyes are pleading with her, seeking some sort of answer, but despite the game they were playing moments ago, she can't tell him the truth, so she settles for something else. “Killian, you're a great guy and I like you a lot, but right now, I'm incapable of committing to anything.” it's not a lie, but it's not the entire truth.

 

“Emma, we only almost kissed, I wasn’t proposing,” he points out, his eyebrows weaving together, displaying his confusion.

 

“I know, but it would've been a one-time thing because that's all I can handle right now. And you... you're not a _one-time thing_ kind of guy, so I think it's best we keep things between us the way they are.”

 

As much as it hurts, Emma opens the car door, leaving Killian with a devastated expression on his face, and she slips into the driver's side, ready to take over driving. The words were painful as she had spoken them, but she really doesn't know if she can be in a relationship again. She's too scared. And she knows damn well any kiss with Killian Jones sure as hell wouldn't be a one-time thing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the last part. Hope you've all enjoyed the story! Thanks so much for reading!

The snowfall is steady the rest of the drive to Oklahoma, and Killian tries to sleep, but his attempts are futile. He can’t stop thinking about the kiss that almost happened between them. He’s disappointed if he’s being honest with himself, but Emma is probably right. The two of them starting something romantic is probably a bad idea. Probably.

 

It’s almost midnight when they reach the two-story farmhouse, soft lights glowing from the windows and above the porch when they pull up behind David’s truck in the driveway. Emma cuts off the engine, sleepiness clouding her beautiful features as they get out of the car. She tugs on her beanie, pulling it further over her head before clasping her glove covered hands together as the frigid air sweeps over them. Killian can see her shivering as he closes the passenger door, and all he can think about is how he wishes he could pull her in his arms again, to warm her up.

 

“Emma!” they hear Ruth call out. “Killian!”

 

They head down the shoveled sidewalk which leads to the front door, so Ruth won't come out to greet them in her slippers. She pulls Emma into a warm hug, brushing the snow that had fallen in the golden curls splayed over her shoulders.

 

"It took you so long. We were all worried."

 

"I know, we got caught in a bit of a snow storm, but we didn't want to worry anyone," Emma explains simply, not wanting to go into much detail.

 

A concerned expression washes over her face as she cups Emma’s cold cheeks in the warmness of her hands. “Oh, I’m so glad you made it here safely.” She moves to Killian, opening her arms and pulling him into her warm embrace.

 

“Merry Christmas, Ruth,” he says, wrapping his arms around her.

 

“Merry Christmas to both of you,” she replies and when she pulls away, a big smile crosses her face. “I’m so glad you two are finally together, you are both perfect for each other.”

 

Emma’s cheeks color with red, along with Killian’s, but it’s not from the bracing, winter air, and they exchange rueful smiles as Ruth turns around to open the door for them.

 

~*~

 

The house is warm, comfortably quiet and smells of hot chocolate and cookies. In spite of the late hour, the lights are all lit and the fire is crackling in the fireplace. On the tree, handmade ornaments David and Emma had made when they were younger are scattered among the tinsel and the twinkle lights.

 

Emma lets out a soft sigh, relieved to be home. As much as she didn’t want to come at first, she's glad she made the trip.

 

“Would you both like some hot chocolate and Christmas cookies?” Ruth asks them, and as amazing as they sound, she really wants to sleep in a warm bed.

 

“We would love some, but we should really get some sleep, it’s been a long day,” Emma replies with a warm smile because after studying Killian’s face and recognizing the weariness engraved in the lines of his forehead and the sleepiness in his eyes, she knows he feels exactly the same way. She also knows that sleeping in a car while sitting upright is not very restful.

 

“Oh, but you both must be hungry from being on the road for so long.”

 

“We stopped for dinner a couple of hours ago,” Killian assures her.

 

Ruth waves her hand, urging them to follow her into the kitchen. “Then you should have plenty of room in your bellies for cookies and cocoa.”

 

“Okay,” Emma laughs, both she and Killian relenting. A hot cup of cocoa with whip cream and cinnamon and some of Ruth’s sugar cookies with delicious frosting and sprinkles does sound amazing.

 

Ruth leads them into the kitchen where David, Mary Margaret, Liam and Elsa are sitting on stools around the island counter, sipping on cocoa and chatting quietly, so as not to wake the little ones upstairs sleeping.

 

The four of them all turn their attention to the new arrivals, excited expressions washing over them as they each take their turns greeting Emma and Killian and pulling them in for a warm hug.

 

Killian had been annoyed with David and Liam after finding out about the bet, but at this late hour, he doesn’t let it bother him, and is only glad to be in a warm house with friends and family. When Killian and Emma each greet Elsa, they also greet Hali, the baby girl on the way, speaking to Elsa’s pregnant belly as though she were already holding the baby in her arms.

 

“David, will you bring in their bags, please?” Ruth as asks her son, but it’s more of a demand rather than a request.

 

“Yes Mama,” he answers, kissing her on the cheek.

 

“Thanks, mate,” Killian says with a grin as he hands David the keys and gives him a pat on the shoulder, seeing the task of fetching the bags as payback for the bet. _Okay, maybe Killian is still a little bitter about it,_ Emma thinks to herself, suppressing a laugh.

 

When David comes back after leaving the suitcases in the hall, they stay up, eating cookies and drinking hot chocolate until they are all too tired to keep their eyes open.

 

Ruth leads them upstairs as David carries their suitcases behind them. “I have a room for each of you,” she tells them.

 

“You do?” Emma asks, and it’s not until the words had already slipped from her mouth when she realizes she didn’t even hide the disappointment in her voice.

 

“Well yes, I know you only started dating, and I had already planned on you two having separate rooms, so I figured it was probably best,” she says, and shows them to both—Emma has her old bedroom and Killian has one of the guest rooms.

 

“Thank you,” Emma responds with a half-hearted smile.

 

“Of course,” she says, playfully waving off Emma's words. “Well, I’ll let you two get some sleep.”

 

~*~

 

Killian and Emma bid each other goodnight with a tired smile and head to their respective rooms. He sighs deeply when he slips into bed with thoughts of kissing Emma and the images of her beautiful body dancing in his head, knowing it’s going to be another long night with no sleep.

 

Christmas Eve morning is pretty traditional at Ruth’s. They indulge in a good sized breakfast of scrambled eggs, biscuits and sausage covered in gravy along with David’s pancakes, which are extra delicious because he adds cinnamon and nutmeg to them. The men have their bonding time, watching Christmas movies with the young children as the women make Kolaches for Christmas breakfast before storing them in the refrigerator. Although, the kids are too hopped up on sugar and the anticipation of Santa and his reindeer coming, to settle down and watch an entire movie of The Santa Clause. Most of them get up at some point to chase the family dog, Wilby, around the house while the youngest, Dylan, who is Elsa's and Liam's and was born last January, is crawling and bouncing happily around the living room.

 

The men help with making a ham dinner, peeling potatoes and cutting up vegetables, with the sound of Christmas music pouring from the Echo Dot David got last Christmas.

 

When the evening comes, they’re all dressed up for the Christmas party as relatives and friends who live in the surrounding area arrive. By the end of the night, after most of the guests have filtered out, Killian goes to the kitchen to get a refill of the bourbon-spiked eggnog he and Liam had made when he sees Emma at the counter already indulging in the creamy drink topped with whip cream and cinnamon. Things are still a bit awkward between them since they’d almost kissed, and they hadn’t a moment to themselves once they’d arrive at Ruth’s, but still, they’ve played along with their charade, holding hands and exchanging chaste kisses on the other’s forehead or cheek, calling each other pet names, like honey or babe.

 

As she tilts the glass back slightly to get a sip, a small dollop of whip cream sticks to her nose when she lowers the glass. Killian laughs and points to his nose. “Love, you got some whip cream....”

 

“Oh, thank you,” Emma laughs and wipes it off with her hand, licking the substance of her fingertips, and he can’t help but notice how adorable she is in her long, curve-hugging burgundy sweater and black leggings, her hair resting over her shoulders in loose curls.

 

“No problem,” he says with a chuckle and raises his hand to get the remaining whip cream, the pad of his thumb brushing the tip of her nose. Her eyes widen and the breath catches in her throat at the contact, their gazes locking as the back of his knuckles move to caress the apple of her cheek.

 

Half expecting Emma to back away, he’s surprised when she lets her eyelids fall shut and slightly nuzzles her cheek into the palm of his hand, getting lost in his touch.

 

“There you two are.” Mary Margaret's chipper voice fills the room, breaking the quiet moment.

 

Emma’s eyes fly open as he removes his hand from her face, reverting their attention to the brunette. David follows behind her, both of them drinking eggnog.

 

“We thought we’d find you two sneaking off somewhere to make out like teenagers,” Mary Margaret says with a big grin.

 

Killian doesn't look at Emma, but he knows she’s blushing just as deeply as he is.

 

“Oh, David, don’t you remember what it was like when our relationship was new and we couldn't keep our hands or lips off each other?”

 

He looks offended as he narrows his eyes at her. “And what, you’re able to now, after ten years of marriage?”

 

“Of course not,” she assures him with a laugh. “I just meant new relationships are so fun and exciting.”

 

“Again, isn’t our marriage fun and exciting?”

 

“Of course, dear, it’s just not new.”

 

“I know exactly what you mean,” Elsa interjects, entering from the living room with her hands resting around her protruding belly, and Liam is behind her, his arms folded and a frown on his face.

 

“So you don't think our marriage is exciting either?”

 

The two women shake their heads and roll their eyes. “They’ll never get it, so why bother?” Mary Margaret mumbles and takes a sip of her drink. As she tilts back her glass, Killian notices her eyes lifting towards the ceiling, above the spot he and Emma are standing. Mary Margaret lowers her glass, wiping her mouth. “Oh, would you look at that, you’re both standing under a mistletoe.”

 

Killian's heart skips a beat, and he lifts his gaze, sure enough seeing the mistletoe hanging above him.

 

“Ooooh, you have to kiss now,” Elsa taunts in a sing-song voice.

 

Killian looks at Emma to gauge her reaction, and her face is flushing as she glances back at him.

 

Wondering how it got there, she eyeballs her sister-in-law suspiciously. “That wasn't there earlier,” she points out.

 

Mary Margaret looks innocent as she shrugs her shoulders, and Elsa’s eyes are dancing with amusement. They're both in on it. “I wonder how it got there.”

 

Emma plants her hands on her hips, looking doubtful. “Uh-huh.”

 

“Doesn’t matter, you gotta kiss,” Elsa tells them.

 

Emma looks to her brother for backup, but to her chagrin, he just shrugs his shoulders. “Sorry, sis, but mistletoe is mistletoe.”

 

Liam is no better as he chants them on. “Come on lovebirds, we haven't seen you two kiss since you’ve been here.”

 

The blush on Killian’s face deepens as he exchanges an awkward smile with Emma. She sighs in defeat and turns towards him, setting her glass down. “You heard them, honey, I guess we have to kiss.”

 

He’s taken off guard by her words, but he’s not about to argue with her. Emma is the first to move in, and once again, Killian is hesitant to get too close, not wanting to force her into anything she doesn't want to do.

 

“Come on, Killian, you have to get closer in order to kiss your girlfriend,” Elsa encourages him.

 

With an unsteady breath, he steps closer into Emma's space, and the room grows silent when his lips are centimeters away from hers. They both move in, although Emma is the one who completely closes the distance between them.

 

When he feels her lips planted against his, so soft and pliant and delicate, he instantly deems himself a goner. His hand is already pressed to her back, pulling her closer to him when there’s too much distance between them, and his other hand is lifting to her face, his thumb stroking her cheek as they part mouths, their lips moving in perfect sync with one another. To his relief, Emma doesn’t back away and is instead fisting his sweater in her hand, deepening the kiss and breathing him in. Killian has imagined locking lips with this woman for quite some time but never has he imagined a kiss to be  _this_ good. Her mouth is so warm and heavenly, he easily gets swept up the affection she offers him.

 

Their surroundings are forgotten as they get lost in the kiss, their tongues sweeping in to exchange the taste of sugary cream, bourbon and cinnamon from the eggnog. Her scent and flavor and the way her body molds into him as they smack lips send his body onto overload. Killian never wants to let her go, so when they end the kiss and release each other’s lips to come up for air, touching their foreheads together for balance, he is stunned from the loss. Their arms are still wrapped around each other in a snug embrace, struggling to catch their breaths and grip onto reality again.

 

When they finally break apart and look at the others, they’re gaping in awe. It was one hell of a kiss, and if it looked as good as it felt, then bloody hell he doesn't blame them for staring.

 

”I’m so happy you two,” Mary Margaret squeals, beaming proudly at them.

 

Killian is still breathless and lovestruck when they pull apart, but when he glances at Emma again, he sees the aftershock on her face before she suddenly dashes off, fleeing the room.

 

“Is she alright?” David asks in concern.

 

“Aye, she’s just shy about PDA is all,” Killian replies, “but I’ll go check on her to make sure.”

 

He tries to gather his wits and goes after her, guessing she had gone upstairs. He races up the steps and goes to her room, gently knocking on the closed door.

 

“Emma? You alright?”

 

There is no answer, but the door is soon being cracked open.

 

“Hey,” she whispers, her green eyes appearing from the dark room.

 

“Hey,” he parrots, a small smile curving his lips.

 

She opens the door wider, her expression unreadable. “Sorry, I just… I wasn't expecting to… I just… that kiss was,” she stammers, unable to find the right words.

 

“Emma, you don't have to explain, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” he says sweetly.

 

She nods, offering a smile, her words cracked as she gives him a reply. “Yeah, I just… thank you, Killian… for going along with this.”

 

Before he can tell her there’s no need, she leaves the door frame and goes to her suitcase to dig something out of it.

 

“I was going to give this to you tomorrow, but I guess now is better, you know, since everyone’s not staring at us,” she says with a small laugh.

 

Killian’s eyes widen in bewilderment as she hands him a rectangular box sheathed in wrapping paper. “Emma, I thought we decided no gifts.”

 

“I know, but I wanted to get you something. It means a lot that you came with me and took care of me along the way.” The sincerity in her words makes his heart constrict. “Please, don’t argue, just open it,” she says playfully.

 

His cheeks redden as he unwraps the gift box and removes the top half, chuckling when he sees what it is. He pulls out the t-shirt, holding it up to read what it says out loud. “Don’t make me repeat myself—History.”

 

“It’s so you know, you always have an extra t-shirt when you take road trips with colleagues,” she razzes him.

 

Killian is touched she had managed to find the time during their trip to get him a gift. “Where did you even get this?”

 

“It was in the bookstore in St. Louis. Why do you think I wanted to stop there?” she smirks.

 

“I thought you just wanted to look at books?” he shrugs. “Why else does one go to a bookstore?”

 

“Because they have the best gifts, duh,” Emma taunts lightheartedly. “When I saw that t-shirt, I couldn’t resist getting it.”

 

To say he’s floored is an understatement. Not that he’s surprised, but Emma Swan never seems to stop blowing him away. “This is perfect, thank you, love,” he says with a toothy grin.

 

“You’re very welcome,” she replies happily, relieved he likes it.

 

“Well, it’s a good thing I got you something too.”

 

Emma cocks a brow at him. “You did?”

 

“Aye.” Killian extends his free hand, and she takes it, letting him lead her to the room he’s staying in. Retrieving her gift from his suitcase, he hands it over.

 

She peels the wrapping paper away, taking the coffee mug in her hand that reads _I’m a HISTORY TEACHER_ in bold, white letters, and below it, _What's your superpower?_

 

“Oh, this is great,” Emma giggles until her are cheeks swollen and red, and all he can think is, _Gods, she is beautiful._

 

“I got it from the same bookstore,” he confesses with a grin.

 

“So that’s why you snuck off while I was perusing the Crime Fiction section?”

 

“Aye, lass. Turns out, we both had the same idea.”

 

“I guess so, it’s a good thing they offer gift wrapping services, huh?”

 

“Aye, that was a very good thing,” he agrees with a chuckle.

 

An easy silence washes over them, their eyes locked on each other, but before he knows it, she’s looking away. “Well uh, we should probably go to sleep. God knows what time we’ll be woken up by the kids,” she laughs.

 

“Aye, you’re right,” he agrees with a smile. “Let me walk you to your room.”

 

Thankfully, she doesn't refute him and they reach her bedroom door, neither of them wanting to leave so quickly, but both knowing they have to.

 

“Goodnight, Killian, and thanks again for the gift.” Emma leans in and presses a soft kiss to his cheek, her lips lingering just a little longer than she’d probably intended, sending sparks over his body.

 

“Goodnight, Emma,” he whispers, voice wrecked as he feels the same lips that were on his own only moments ago. “Thanks for the t-shirt.”

 

They each back away, reluctant to part, but they both manage a small smile and enter their respective rooms.

 

Killian doesn’t even attempt to sleep. He’s still reeling from that damn kiss and doesn’t know how the bloody hell to function normally after that. He wants to go down the hall, enter into her room and kiss her _hard_ and tell her how he feels about her, but he knows he can’t do that. So, instead, he retrieves a book from his bag after brushing his teeth, taking off his sweater and pulling on a pair of flannel pajama pants. He slips into bed, turns on the nightstand lamp and leans against the pillows, shifting into a comfortable position. Putting on a pair of reading glasses, he opens his softcover book and starts reading.

 

~*~

 

“Okay, Emma, you have to tell me, have you and Killian slept together yet?”

 

“I’m not telling you that,” Emma snaps, her eyes bugging out of her head. She shouldn’t be surprised though; she was only waiting for her sister-in-law to ask the inevitable question.

 

“Come on, inquiring minds want to know.” Elsa’s eyes are buzzing with anticipation as she takes a seat in the barstool next to Mary Margaret, both women staring at Emma, waiting for answers. And here, Emma thought she would go downstairs and nurse on a cup of hot cocoa in peace, knowing she would not be able to sleep after that damn kiss with Killian underneath the mistletoe, which is now somehow missing, Emma notices.

 

No such luck.

 

Emma sighs, taking a sip of her drink.

 

“That was some kiss, you can’t tell me you didn’t jump each other’s bones after that.”

 

Emma chokes on her beverage, almost spitting it out. “Oh my God, we haven’t had sex yet!” she says louder than intended.

 

“Not all of us want to know about that,” David grumbles as he happens to walk into the kitchen at the exact same time and goes straight for the refrigerator.

 

“You weren’t invited, honey, this is girl talk,” Mary Margaret tells her husband sweetly.

 

David pulls out the mince pie, sets it on the counter in front of them and plants a kiss on his wife’s forehead. “Believe me, I don't want to hear about it as much as you don't want me around to listen in. I just had a hankering for more of Mom’s delicious mince pie.”

 

“There’s nothing to talk about anyway. The relationship is new and we’re not in a huge rush to get too serious.” Emma takes another sip of her hot cocoa as Mary Margaret eyes her doubtfully.

 

“For such a nonserious couple, you both seem pretty serious about each other.”

 

Emma cocks a brow at her. “What do you mean?”

 

“Hey, don’t hog all the pie, mate.” Liam’s voice booms as he enters the kitchen, heading for the dish David has on the counter as he cuts a slice for himself and transfers it to a small plate.

 

“I mean the way you seem around each other and how you look at each other. Not to mention, he got you a gift,” Elsa points out, eyeing Emma's coffee mug that she had brought down with her and washed before using it to make hot chocolate in.

 

“Are you talking about my brother?” Liam asks, sliding a slice of pie on a plate as David stands by his wife, eating his portion of pie with a fork.

 

“Yep, Emma says they’re not serious yet, but Killian got her a gift.”

 

Liam collapses into gales of hearty laughter, apparently finding Emma's statement about she and Killian not being serious, amusing. “I’m just waiting for the wedding invites,” he says before shoving a bite of pie into his mouth with a fork.

 

“I know, right?!” Elsa exclaims, and Liam kisses his wife’s lips between chewing, his hand gently caressing her stomach.

 

“It’s a coffee mug, not a diamond ring!” Emma huffs and gets up from the stool, making her way out of the kitchen.

 

“Denial,” David calls after Emma, “just like before you started dating,” but she keeps moving and heads for the hallway.

 

She storms up the steps, wishing she could just prove them all wrong and tell them she and Killian are not really dating. But does she really want to?

 

Hell no.

 

What she wants is…

 

No, she can’t want that.

 

Some part of her–that tiny voice screaming in the very back of her mind–is trying to remind her what a bad idea this is. He’s a colleague and a family friend. Sure she’s had desires for him before, but she’s never acted on them. And why wouldn’t she want him? He respects her, he listens to her, laughs with her and accepts her. He’s a gentleman and he’d taken care of her when she’d broke down in front of him; he even warmed her toes for crying out loud! He’s a good guy and this—whatever this was brewing between them…

 

Emma’s thought process is skewed by her burning desire for him. In her current state, she can try to rationalize that Killian Jones wants her too, if that kiss and how he put everything into it, was any indication of his feelings for her.

 

So what’s holding her back?

 

Everyone already thinks they’re together and probably planning their wedding, so what the hell is her problem?

 

She goes into the bathroom to brush her teeth and knows if she doesn't take a risk and find out what is happening between them, some other professor in Storybrooke may sweep him up and steal him from her. If she doesn't grab him up now, she may regret it forever.

 

Not today she won’t.

 

~*~

 

Killian is only a few pages in, his focus repeatedly drifting off to the beautiful blonde professor and that kiss. His eyes study the page, trying to take in the small type in front of him and trying his best to read the words, but he’s five seconds from throwing in the towel and getting out of the bed to take a long, hot shower and relieve the tension he feels.

 

Before he can act though, there’s a soft knock on the door. Lifting his eyes from the pages of his book, his brows curve up as he wonders who it could be. “Come in,” he calls out, and before he can even move to get up, the door is being opened. “Oh, hey Swan,” he says taking off his reading glasses to set them on the nightstand. Emma enters the room in a red, satin bathrobe, her soft blonde curls cascading over one shoulder as she locks the door. “Are you alright?” he questions in concern, unable to read the impassive look settled in the beautiful features of her face.

 

“Yes,” she replies, her tone more confident than her usual demeanor as she strides over to him and reaches the bed. “I just had one more gift for you to unwrap.”

 

“Another gift? Love, you didn't have to—” His words cut off when the pad of her index finger is being pressed to his lips. Clearing the lump in his throat, his eyes lock with hers, Emma’s emerald gems glowing with warmth.

 

Removing her finger, she climbs up on the bed and straddles his lap. He’s completely baffled, not knowing what to think or how to react.

 

“Emma?” His voice is racked with the nerves swarming around in his gut.

 

But she doesn't breathe a word, and instead, his book is being ripped from his hands and flung carelessly to the floor. He’s even more befuddled, his heartbeat hammering in his chest as her intense gaze seeps into his bones.

 

“You sure you're alright?” he asks her again.

 

Cupping his cheeks in her hands, she leans into him, her lips crashing into his before he can say another word.

 

Killian emits a groan against her lips as she kisses him as though her life depends upon it. Her tongue demands the entrance he easily gives her, his lips parting against hers and letting her explore his mouth. His body is quickly reacting as her tongue plunges into his mouth, fierce and eager and warm, sweeping to taste his, and he can feel the desire for this woman pulsing through him.

 

Before he knows what’s happening, Emma breaks the kiss, leaving him a panting mess, her eyes wild with something he’s never seen from her before. She leaves a trail of hot kisses up his jaw and reaches his ear, pulling on the shell with her teeth. Killian growls, his whole body buzzing with a pleasant shudder, his length now at half-mast.

 

Releasing him, her nose nuzzles the lobe of his ear, leaving a soft whisper. “Unwrap me, Killian.” Emma rises, and Killian doesn’t hesitate.

 

He almost thinks he might be dreaming, but if not, he can’t find it within himself to let Emma slip through his fingers. Not when she’s offering herself to him on a silver platter, all wanton and lovely as she peers down at him with mischief in her eyes.

 

“As you wish.” He takes the end of the belt that’s tied around her waist holding her robe together, and pulls on it, loosening the material. Anticipation lights up his eyes as he opens the robe like he’s a young lad opening presents on Christmas morning.

 

The satin fabric spills down, pooling around her body, and Killian’s mouth falls open on its own accord, his eyes scanning her beautiful, naked form. He hadn’t realized she was bare underneath the robe, but he’s not complaining. Her body is draped in a warm glow from the lamplight, and her exquisite breasts are hanging above him, begging to be teased and touched and sucked.

 

Killian’s cock is now hard as steel as he runs his tongue along his lips, his body aching with anticipation.

 

Cradling her decadent hips in his hands, he urges her towards him and wraps his lips around her soft, pink nipple, drawing it into his mouth and sucking lightly to savor the taste. Delicate moans pour from Emma’s lips, her fingers combing through his hair as a growl tears through his throat. Her areola stiffens in his mouth as he sucks and nibbles, appreciating her delicious taste and smell as he tweaks the other nipple with his fingers and thumb. Growing curious for her other breast, he releases the nipple in his mouth with a long suck before moving to the other one, taking his time to explore each one thoroughly.

 

Emma writhes above him, and as much he loves her breasts, he knows if he doesn't have her soon, they both might combust before they even get the chance to have one another.

 

When he lifts his head, all wrecked and breathless, she takes the opportunity to rid him from his pants, jerking the waistband down his legs to free his throbbing cock from its confines. He pulls her down for a desperate kiss and rocks against her, grinding his throbbing length against her slick folds. Emma moans when she takes him in her hand, the sound lost against his mouth as she curls her fingers around his thick shaft, slowly dragging her hand along his length and feeling every ridge of muscle. He can feel how wet she is as she rolls her hips against his thighs, and he thinks he could very well come right then and there. But he doesn't want this to end.

 

“Emma…” Killian groans out her name, barely able to get the single word off his tongue as she strokes him good and hard. “Gods, I want you,” he manages, his voice raw and thick with desire.

 

Emma releases his length, fingers brushing over his cheek, trailing over the rise of his cheekbone and down along the curve of his jaw. “I want you, too,” she confesses in a whisper. “I _need_ you.”

 

Killian bites his bottom lip, his hands skimming over her bare, creamy white, soft thighs. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

 

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Emma laughs, her eyes raking over the bare expanse of his body.

 

The way she looks at him with those hungry eyes makes his blood run hot. _She_ is hot. Everything about this is hot.

 

There are no more words as Emma shifts forward so she’s hovering above him and reaching between them, coaxing the head of his cock to her center.

 

She feels impossibly tight around him, her walls slick, coating his cock like warm honey as he slides into her. He captures her lips, her hard nipples dragging through his chest hair, eliciting a rough growl deep from his throat. Gliding his hands up the curves of her body, his right one reaches her hair, raking through her golden locks and pulling gently. His other arm wraps around her back securing her to him as they start to move, sharing a kiss that’s all hot and needy, expressing the feelings they’re kept locked away for each other for so long.

 

She releases his mouth, her lips making their way up his jaw, her breathing ragged over his skin. Killian’s eyes roll to the back of his head as she buries her face in the nook of his shoulder, leaving lustful kisses across the column of his neck, her teeth gently drawing in his skin, and he knows he'll have a love bruise come morning.

 

Her nails dig into his biceps as she slowly rides his dick, the bed rocking gently as he moves inside her, stretching her little by little with every inch of him. Biting her bottom lip, she suppresses her moans, her back arching when he reaches the hilt of her. They try to be as quiet as possible; the last thing they need is someone hearing them and knocking on the door to see what all the commotion is about. But it’s hard to keep quiet when Emma is rolling her hips, riding him good and hard and he’s slamming his hips up wildly to meet her thrusts. They’ve both wanted this for so long, the passion between them erupts to the surface in no time.

 

He reaches between them and slides his fingers along her folds, where they’re connected, and he starts fingering her delicate clit, riling her up further. Soon her body is possessed and she rises and fucks him rough and fast, her breasts bouncing above him and taunting him. He takes one in his hand, feeling the soft weight as his other hand is fingering her clit, gradually bringing her to orgasm, her walls rapidly fluttering around him and pulling him under. Their bodies are so wound up, all it takes is a well-angled thrust, as the fingers that aren’t feathering her clit are sinking into her hip pressing her onto him, to send her careening into the abyss

 

“Killian…” His name leaves her red, swollen lips in a soft whimper as she comes around his cock, her walls shuddering around him and pulling him in with her.

 

“Ohhhh, fuck,” he curses, and his release is so intense as he spills his seed into her and comes with a ragged cry, he swears he almost unconscious from it.

 

Emma rests her head in the crook of his neck, both trying to catch their breaths, chests heaving against one another.

 

Their bodies are too sapped to move at first, but once she’s able to, she rolls over to his side, and he kicks his pants the rest of the way off, letting them fall to the floor. Emma rests her head on his chest, sighing contentedly, her left leg draped across his hips as his hand idly strokes her thigh.

 

“I have a confession to make,” she says, her words raspy and broken.

 

Killian lifts a brow, his curiosity piqued as he looks down at her. “What’s that?”

 

Emma lifts her head, perching her chin in her hand as she holds herself up by her elbow and uses her other hand to trace the abs of his stomach. “When we spent the night at the hotel, I didn't end up sleeping on the couch.”

 

“You didn’t?”

 

She shakes her head. “Nope. I woke up in the morning in bed with you.”

 

His brows wrinkle in confusion. “Why did you tell me differently?”

 

“Because… I didn’t want you to be embarrassed when you woke up.”

 

“Why would I…” His words trail off when he realizes exactly what she means. His mouth grows dry and he swallows the large lump in his throat. “Oh.”

 

Emma lifts her hand to his face, running her fingers over his stubble jaw. “I don’t want you to feel ashamed, Killian. I’m telling you because I want you to know I didn’t leave your arms that night. I wanted to be close to you. I’ve wanted to for a while,” she confesses softly. “Now, it’s your turn.”

 

He’s not sure what to do with what she’s told him, but she’s gazing at him with this alluring green eyes, waiting for him to spill a secret of his own. Clearing his throat, he thinks of something to share with her. “Okay, I have to confess... when you told me I wasn’t a _one-time thing_ kind of lad, you were right, I’m not… but…” he swallows again as she waits for him to finish, “after I lost Milah I was scared of getting too close to someone again, especially you.”

 

Raising a brow, she scrutinizes him carefully, trying to figure what he means by that. “Why?” The word comes out in a throaty whisper.  

 

“Because I knew I'd fall for you.” His eyes grow dark, heart aching in his chest as he bares his soul to this woman.

 

“And all these years, I thought you didn't want to get close to me in the family photos because you didn't like me,” she says with a strangled laugh.

 

“Are you kidding?” He can't believe she would think such a thing. “I’ve been smitten over you for a while now.”

 

Emma offers a small smile, her hand sifting through his chest hair. “I’m glad because I have another confession.” She pauses for a moment, reluctant at first before drawing in a deep, shaky breath. “This,” she begins, waving her hand over them, “is not a one-time thing.”

 

He also doesn't believe what he’s hearing, a giddy feeling cascading over him. “Well, then I have another one, too. You don't know how happy I am to hear that, because… the truth is,” he gulps thickly trying to find the words. “I don’t want it to be. I also don't want to pretend anymore.”

 

His words seem to hit a nerve, her face etched with something he doesn't expect—relief. A smile stretches across her lips, her eyes lighting up in the darkness of the night. “Good.” With a soft kiss against his lips, she whispers, “I don’t want to either.”

 

Relief floods through his system, and he pulls her in for a lazy kiss, climbing atop her and groaning into her mouth.

 

Emma wraps her legs around his hips, a big smirk on her face when they break the kiss, eyes alighting with mischief. “Well, as my boyfriend, I expect you to show up at my door with coffee every morning and nightly foot rubs.”

 

Killian chuckles. “You're a very needy girlfriend...” 

 

“What can I say, I have lots of needs,” she teases with a giggle, her bright green eyes full of an unmistakable emotion— _happiness._

 

Her happiness is contagious, his heart is soaring in his chest as he smiles down at her, his hand stroking her swollen, red cheek. “I wouldn't have it any other way, love,” he whispers and kisses her deeply, entering her a second time. They try to be as quiet as they can while making love once again that night.

 

~*~

 

When Emma wakes up in his arms, her messy blonde locks splayed across him as her head rests on the middle of his chest, she doesn't flee this time. They savor the feeling of their bodies snuggled up closely, their legs wrapped in a delightful entanglement; they can't even tell whose limbs are his and whose are hers.

 

The children rise early, as expected and Emma's glad she'd thought to lock the door last night. She and Killian get dressed and leave the bedroom padding downstairs to the kitchen with big grins on their faces.

 

They have Kolaches and coffee for breakfast before heading to the living room to unwrap presents.

 

Mary Margaret is passing out gifts to everyone as Killian settles for a spot on the sofa and Emma claims a cozy seat next to him. She curls up against him, and he wraps his arm around her, his hand idly caressing her hip. Even though no one is really paying attention to them, Emma is glad they no longer have to pretend.

 

“Here you go, Killian.” Mary Margaret hands him his first present wrapped in holiday paper and scurries away, continuing her task.

 

With the gift in his lap as he waits for all of the presents to be handed out before opening his, he plants a kiss on Emma’s temple, a big smile stretching across his lips. She enjoys the delicious drag of his beard against her skin and the way his scent permeates her nose as he tightens his arm around her. His eyes are buzzing with excitement, but she's certain his reasons are not the anticipation of opening presents.

 

As soon as all of the gifts are passed out, everyone starts tearing at the wrapping paper, especially the little ones, who are either oohing and ahhing or screaming in excitement.

 

“Aren't you going to unwrap your gifts?” Emma asks when he doesn't start immediately, like everyone else.

 

“Aye, I will,” he murmurs and seems to enjoy admiring her open presents more than anything. Still holding her in his arms as she peels away the wrapping paper of the small present in her hand, he leans in, his lips almost kissing her earlobe as he whispers, “But truthfully, I already have the greatest gift of all. I have you.”

 

Emma looks up from her task, heart fluttering pleasantly in her chest as a smile takes over her lips, swelling up her cheeks. Pressing her forehead to his, her nose brushes against him and she’s still blissfully dazed by how happy she is being with him (but not at all surprised) as she manages a breathy reply, “And I you.”

 

Once all the wrapping paper debris that was carelessly strewn about on the floor is cleaned up, Ruth sets up the camera on its tripod, herding everyone in front of the Christmas tree for a family photo. Killian is on the other side of Emma, like always, but this time he doesn’t have to be asked to get closer. He's already wrapping his arms around her from behind before Ruth sets the timer and quickly moves in, standing between Emma and David.

 

Everyone says cheese, except for Killian, who is too busy peppering Emma’s cheek with kisses. The camera flashes as it snaps the photo, capturing Killian with his face buried in the crook of her neck, his beard tickling her skin, and Emma mid-giggle.

 

~*~

 

Killian keeps a copy of the family photo in a nice frame on his office desk at work. (Not that he needs a reminder of the Christmas he’d gotten together with his future wife.)


End file.
